And what do you intend the noo?'

'Can I win home?' anxiously asked Arthur. 'You know I never was
attainted!'

'And what would ye do if you were at home?'

'I should see my mother.'

'Small doubt of the welcome she would have for you, my poor laddie,' said
the major; 'but what next?' And as Arthur hesitated, 'I misdoubt greatly
whether Burnside would give you a helping hand if you came fresh from
colloguing with French Jacobites, though my father and all the rest of us
at the Lynn aye told him that he might thank himself and his dour old
dominie for your prank--you were but a schoolboy then--you are a man now;
and though your poor mother would be blithe to set eyes on you, she would
be sairly perplexed what gate you had best turn thereafter. Now, see
here! There's talk of our being sent to dislodge the Spaniards from
Sicily. You are a likely lad, and the colonel would take my word for you
if you came back with me to Port Mahon as a volunteer; and once under
King George's colours, there would be pressure enough from all of us
Hopes upon Burnside to gar him get you a commission, unless you win one
for yourself. Then you could gang hame when the time was served, a
credit and an honour to all!'

'I had rather win my own way than be beholden to Burnside,' said Arthur,
his face lighting at the proposal.

'Hout, man! That will be as the chances of war may turn out. As to your
kit, we'll see to that! Never fear. Your mother will make it up.'

'Thanks, Archie, with all my heart, but I am not so destitute,' and he
mentioned Yusuf's legacy, which the major held that he was perfectly
justified in appropriating; and in answer to his next question, assured
him that he would be able to retain Fareek as his servant.

This was enough for Arthur, who knew that the relief to his mother's mind
of his safety and acceptance as a subject would outweigh any
disappointment at not seeing his face, when he would only be an
unforgiven exile, liable to be informed against by any malicious
neighbour.

He borrowed materials, and had written a long letter to her before the
_Calypso_ put in at Algiers. The little swift tartane had forestalled
her; and every one was on the watch, when Estelle, who had been treated
like a little princess on board, was brought in the long-boat with all
her party to the quay. Though it was at daybreak, not only the European
inhabitants, but Turks, Arabs, Moors, and Jews thronged the wharf in
welcome;